


meet the colony

by KathrynShadow



Series: Love Bites [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M, Family Bonding, Fluff, Harley Panics Easily, I tried to get Steph in there too but couldn't figure out how and I apologize, Jason Makes Jokes About His Own Death And Makes Everyone Uncomfortable (Again), Meet the Family, POV Harley Quinn, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 19:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13577058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathrynShadow/pseuds/KathrynShadow
Summary: “Jason,” Bruce says with an infinite patience, “please don’t joke about your violent murder at the dinner table.”





	meet the colony

**Author's Note:**

> posting this in February because time is an illusion and the calendar can't tell me what to do

One of the things that comes with the territory of being Dick Grayson’s girlfriend, apparently, is his entire family. And… alright, she could have guessed that; that sounds pretty normal, all told, but it’s still the biggest family she’s ever personally witnessed outside of an Italian reunion. And also they’re all bat-themed superheroes. So that’s a little weird.

Harley manages to put a lot of it off by dint of Blüdhaven being a pretty annoying distance away from Gotham unless there’s the promise of getting laid at the other side, but she doesn’t really… have a reason to not meet the rest of his folks outside of being detained and shuffled off to Arkham by them. (Which Dick has personally assured her that none of them will do.) So it’s fine, it’s really… it’s fine.

She may or may not be freaking out a little bit, but… hell, what is she supposed to do? Pam’s family were all leafy and shit, she doesn’t even  _ want _ to know if the Joker had anybody still lurking around, and all her other relationships were pretty damn casual even for a given measure of high school and college stuff. This is all new territory in ways that she really doesn’t like, and also Bruce Wayne is unnervingly rich and might even have a streak of classiness buried somewhere in there underneath all of the other stuff, and she’s not classy! She’s the opposite of classy! If there’s more than one fork in front of her she’s absolutely going to make an idiot of herself and

(Dick tells her she’ll be fine. Repeatedly. Usually before she even gets around to worrying about it out loud. He even… bless him, he even asks if she’d rather stay behind and avoid the whole shebang, but as tempting as that is in theory, she wants to do this right. She started all of this in the hopes of having a normal life with normal habits and a normal social circle, and worrying about the whatever-comes-before-in-laws is a normal thing to do, so by heaven she’s going to do it.)

And then, of course, because whatever universal metaphysical laws govern the existence of the Bat family have a sense of humor or spite or something, a wrench gets chucked into Dick’s side of the works too. A ten-year-old, grumpy wrench that nobody knew about. So then he also starts getting a little antsy about it all right there with her. Which… on the one hand, she’s glad she’s not alone in being super on edge about the holiday and everything that goes along with it, but on the other hand—

She doesn’t even know that Dick’s  _ existing _ family is gonna get along with her too great. And Dick can’t reassure her otherwise with the new kid, because nobody knows anything about him in the first place.

At least they can’t do much talking about it while they’re heading over. Motorcycles aren’t exactly the best means of transportation if you want to actually communicate on the way there.

(Okay, there are still the comms built into the helmets, because Dick is nothing if not thorough. But that doesn’t mean she wants to use them right now when she’s busy panicking internally over shit she knows she doesn’t have to worry about.)

* * *

The first new person that she meets, unsurprisingly, is Alfred. He’s just as calm and nondescript as Dick described him, which is good because it means she knows what to expect, and the worst thing ever because it means she can’t  _ read _ him. Does he approve? Does he hate her guts? Does he hold it against her that she tied his charge to a chair and maybe kind of roughed him up for a while that one time she got the drop on him solo?

Oh, god, does he hold it against her that she tied his charge’s son to her bed and then kind of accidentally had sex with him that one time she got the drop on  _ him _ solo? Does he know about that? Please, please let him not know about that. Shit.

Okay. It’s fine. Alfred doesn’t try to punch her or anything, not that it looks like that’s how he fights anyway. He seems like the sort to poison your tea or just take the direct hold-a-shotgun-to-your-skull-until-you-go-away approach. Which she can deal with, if it’s true.

She can deal with the second one if it’s true. The first one, she’s not so okay with, but… hey, she’s been dumped into and sprayed with and otherwise interacted with pretty much every single gross toxic thing that Gotham has ever come up with, so maybe she’s just immune to poisoning by now. Interesting idea that she’s never, ever going to test.

“Doctor Quinzel,” he says. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Uh,” she replies. “I dunno if I’m technically a doctor these days—” and what the  _ hell _ , every time anyone else brings it up she’ll fight them to the death but this random British guy is polite at her and she’s stumbling into something backpedal-y? Also, what the hell is any of the rest of it supposed to mean? Does he mean that? Is he sassing her in that carefully deadpan way that Batman does sometimes that’s super hard to figure out at first?  _ Is that where Batman learned it? _ “But. Thanks? You too?”

Alfred gives her a small smile and takes her coat before moving on to Dick. Dick straight-up hugs him. Alfred endures. Harley stands awkwardly off to the side until they’re both finished with their (much warmer on Dick’s side; she can’t really tell about the other end, which is maybe a good sign? Maybe?) greeting, and then she continues in her sudden habit of following Dick around like a nervous puppy.

Which sucks, and she hates that she’s doing it. But also, if the entryway and the approach and the  _ everything _ is an indication, wandering off in Wayne Manor will end with her being lost in about two seconds flat.

Anyway. She survives Alfred. Count that on her list of achievements, hooray.

Either Batman has a seventeenth sense for when there’s a reformed supervillain in his house (likely) or he has the whole place bugged and is constantly monitoring it through a hidden speaker in his ear even when he doesn’t have the cowl on (also likely), because Bruce just sort of shows up before they can get more than six steps inside the Manor.

No. He doesn’t just sort of show up, actually.  _ Harley can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. _ And that should not be as weird to her as it is, but she’s personally witnessed him moving around in full body armor without making a single sound, and it just does not help the overall uncanniness of the evening so far. She turns and straightens up, and he’s thankfully not wearing an actual suit because she would have felt super underdressed even though Dick is right there in normal-shirt-and-slightly-nicer-pants-than-usual territory right with her. She can deal with a turtleneck. She can even mostly deal with the jacket he’s got on top of it.

Is he cold all the time? Geez. Harley feels a little overheated just thinking about it.

“Dick,” Bruce says cheerfully, hugging him. “And Harley! Glad you could make it.” He hugs her too, which is completely fine and not unsettling in the least.

“Yeah,” she says. “Well. I don’t turn down food, you know.” Yes. Casual voice. Casual words. Like someone who  _ hasn’t _ been worrying about this.

Dick snickers from behind her, but offers no further comment on the matter.

“You’re a little early,” Bruce says, standing back and putting his hands in his pockets. “Kate’s still on her way. Tim is on casserole duty and I think Cassandra is keeping him company. Barbara said she might stop by after her family is done eating, but not to count on it.”

Dick nods. “Need me to track down Jason?” he asks, mouth quirking up in amusement.

Bruce, worryingly, smiles in the exact same way. Freaky. “He’ll show up when he feels like it,” he says. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

So she survives both Alfred and Bruce in one go, and not everybody’s even there yet.

“Did we come now so I wouldn’t get flooded with everybody all at once?” Harley half-whispers to Dick once Bruce turns his back and starts walking with purpose towards somewhere.

Dick takes her hand and squeezes it. “It might have come into the equation somewhere,” he says.

She smiles at him. “Thanks, pumpkin,” she says, leaning her head into his shoulder before they both go to follow Bruce deeper into the Manor.

* * *

The next one she runs across doesn’t say a word to her, but it’s completely fine, because he’s also got four legs and a tail and a lot of fur. And also she already knows him.

Harley hesitates when she spots the dog (Ace, she heard Bruce call him; Ace), not sure if his presumptive bad memories of his last owner might bleed over into the last person to actually take care of him. Ace hesitates when he spots her. She sits on the floor.

“Hey,” she coos. “Remember me, buddy?”

Ace gets up from his spot next to the fireplace (because of  _ course _ there’s a fireplace; why wouldn’t there be a freakin’ fireplace?), ears perked, and wanders over to her with a cautious kind of curiosity. Harley holds her hand out. He sniffs it. He sniffs it again.

His tail gives a single wag.

“Yeah,” she says. “I thought so.” She scritches behind his ear. He tilts his head adorably into it and licks her wrist. “Who’s a good boy? You being a good boy?”

She has no idea how it’s even possible that he isn’t just mauling her to death right now, given how… well, the Joker. And  _ man _ , leaving the weird little assortment of dogs and hyenas behind had been the cause for more lost sleep than leaving the Joker had been (because none of the other goons were going to know how to take care of the poor things, the Joker couldn’t even take care of  _ himself _ , and she just knew it was going to end in tears all around, but what was she supposed to do?), so it’s… it’s one hell of a relief to know that at least one of them made it out okay. Found his own way into the weird little amalgamation of mostly-orphans Bruce has here, ended up acting like a normal dog.

Ace flops onto his side and then onto his back, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and his tail swooshing across the floor almost audibly, and Harley nearly cries from how freakin’ cute it is.

* * *

Dick, Bruce, and Alfred all make sure that their footsteps are audible when they’re not actively trying to sneak up on people. Either Cassandra isn’t the same way at all, or she’s trying to sneak up on Harley. Which she does, spectacularly.

Nearly gives Harley a heart attack is what she does, actually. And, when Harley has to bite her tongue to keep every single swear word she knows from coming out of her mouth in front of her boyfriend’s family, Cassandra actually kind of smiles a little. Like she’s amused.

Which… okay, it’s probably a little funny. And it doesn’t look like a  _ mean _ smile.

“Hi,” she says awkwardly, instead of everything that she almost said.

She can hear the laughter that Dick is patiently holding back from his voice. “Cass,” he says. “This is Harley. Harley, Cassandra.”

Cassandra gives her a little acknowledging nod. Her eyes flick down Harley’s body, just briefly, and she looks thoughtful. Maybe a little concerned? She reaches out and Harley tries not to flinch when she finds her shoulder patted gently. “Don’t…” Cass says. She pauses, a slight tension winding between her eyebrows. “Be afraid,” she finishes, finally. And she pats Harley’s shoulder again.

“I… won’t?” Harley returns, frowning.

Cass nods quickly and turns to leave.

She’s. Mostly sure that went well.

Mostly?

* * *

Tim is probably going to be the most unremarkable introduction of the lot, which Harley is definitely not going to complain about if it’s true. Dick finally just wanders into the kitchen with her when it doesn’t look like Tim is going to emerge on his own. “Tim,” he says, leaning against a wall and  _ shit _ everything in here smells delicious. Harley is going to die. “Have you met Harley?”

Tim looks up from where he appears to be, quite literally, watching a pot for boiling. “Sort of,” he says. “Not on good terms, though.”

Harley winces. “Yeah,” she agrees. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Glad you turned your life around.” He smiles disarmingly.

“I don’t know if I turned it around, exactly,” she says with a tiny laugh. “Mostly Dick looked sad at me until I started wanting to hang out with him more, and the tights going back on just sorta… happened.”

“You were very heroic,” Dick says, brushing past her to investigate the dinner rolls Alfred is just bringing out of the oven. Wordlessly, Alfred hands him a pastry brush and nods to the plate of butter on the counter before he can escape again.

“He makes a good damsel,” she informs Tim, and Tim grins at her, and it’s so completely comfortable that she almost forgets why she was so worried about all of this.

* * *

Harley had never really ended up on Batwoman’s bad side (or her good side, or any side), so her appearance is probably the least stressful of the lot; the fact that she’d only seen her from a distance once or twice with the cape on means that she can much more easily file her away as “cute redhead named Kate” and move on. As opposed to having to deal with “cute redhead named Kate who is also just as capable of stringing her up by her ankles and leaving her there as Batman is, and might just be even more terrifying while she does it”.

And hey, at any other point in her life she might be into that a little bit. But not just this second. Hell, Dick is probably the  _ least _ viscerally terrifying Bat she knows (Tim sure looks sweet and cute and innocent and a little shorter than most of the guys in the family, but she’s personally witnessed him shatter someone’s hip with his stick thing and she  _ knows better _ ) and he still took some getting used to.

“Glad you could make it,” Bruce says into her shoulder.

“Of course I made it,” Kate replies, trying to hug her cousin and carry an aluminum foil-covered plate of something that smells fucking incredible. “Julia couldn’t, though. Work, you know.”

Harley has absolutely no idea who the hell Julia is. She’s a little afraid to ask. (Does this family ever  _ end? _ )

“I can imagine,” Bruce says, pulling back and taking the plate. Harley really wishes he’d pull the foil back so she could see what’s on it, which is probably exactly why he does nothing of the sort. “I’m going to put this away; I’ll be right back—”

And she’s nearly following him out just because of curiosity but then Dick catches her arm and he’s saying words and the words are “Kate, this is Harley” and damn it.

“Hi,” she says, and abruptly has the realization that this is probably the only first impression with a Batfamily member above the age of ten she can possibly make and she has no idea how to do that.

Kate looks at her in a way that’s at least not  _ obviously _ just to size her up. “Hi,” she replies, and offers a hand. Her shake is surprisingly intimidating. “Been keeping Dick out of trouble?”

“Uh,” says Harley, and briefly debates on the merits of telling her that it’s usually the other way around, actually, and— “Not really?”

Kate gives her a little smile. “Good,” she says. “It’s an exercise in futility anyway.”

* * *

There appears to be a bet going on whether Jason or Damian will make an appearance first. Damian (the new kid, apparently, the one Dick hasn’t even met yet) has the advantage of actually living in the Manor, but given the fact that he hasn’t shown up so far and the food is perilously close to being done… Harley is pretty sure it’s going to end up being Jason.

And she is absolutely right, much to Dick’s dismay.

Jason is… She’s heard some things that weren’t quite horror stories, but were definitely not the kind of stories that she heard of any of the other ex-Robins. And she actually has the dubious honor of having met him more than once or twice before he sort of maybe got brutally beaten to death. (Which wasn’t her fault, by the way, but it’s still hard not to feel guilty about everything the Joker did before she publicly renounced everything having to do with him and all other supervillain shit.)

He also shows up in motorcycling gear, which makes her kind of wonder if that’s not also just a trait shared by all Robins and ex-Robins. (Although from what Dick’s told her about his eldest sibling, the fact that Jason is actually wearing a proper jacket probably has more to do with how stupid cold it is out than any actual regard for his own safety.) He claps Alfred on the back when he shows up, which Alfred endures with just as much dignity as Dick’s hugging; he nods his greeting at Bruce, but it doesn’t seem to be in a particularly  _ cold _ way. Harley makes a valiant effort to not hide behind the nearest large and imposing object she can find and fails, but unfortunately the nearest large and imposing object she can find is Bruce Wayne and the bastard  _ moves _ just when she thinks that she can maybe get out of the greeting train for this specific family member for as long as she can.

Jerk.

“Harley,” says Jason with a smile that is very, very worrying. “I’ve heard a lot about you lately.”

Dick snorts. “Good things,” he says. “Don’t scare her, Jay.”

“Complimentary things,” Jason corrects, crossing his arms. The grin gets worse, but at least it’s directed at just Dick this time. “I don’t know if I can say they were  _ good _ when I heard how you two met the last time—”

“I think I hear Tim,” Bruce lies flatly, and leaves the room. (He gives her a goddamn smirk when he does it. Harley strongly considers hating his guts.)

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Harley offers.

Jason snickers. “You know,” he says, “I really wish I could say that’s the weirdest hostage situation I’ve ever heard of him getting into.”

“Everyone just wants to kidnap me,” Dick says, and Harley honestly isn’t even completely sure if he’s kidding or not. (Come to think of it, he did seem to get tied up a lot even just back when he was Robin. Not that his dad  _ didn’t _ , but she’s never really thought too long about it before, and it’s much too late for her to try and keep track of which one had it happen more.)

“Lucky you,” Jason drawls. “I just have people trying to kill me. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Harley.”

Harley tries not to read too far into the juxtaposition between those statements.

Tries.

* * *

Harley had spent more time than she really wants to admit trying to figure out what Bat family dinners would look like. Back before she’d seen any of them out of costume (or  _ knew _ she’d seen them out of costume, anyway) she’d sort of imagined them all in full combat gear sitting around a really nice table and trying to keep sauce off of their capes. She’d  _ mostly _ stopped doing that after knowing what they all looked like (or what their eyes and cheekbones looked like, at least), but it wasn’t like she had much else to even go off of.

It’s… Okay, so she doesn’t actually know what ‘normal’ looks like in a lot of ways, but it’s maybe normal? It’s just a bunch of people who are related to each other (mostly, sorta) sitting down and eating. Including Alfred, which is nice, but then to be fair she still has no idea what butlers do (or what this specific one  _ doesn’t _ do, to be a little more accurate). Bruce vanishes for a few minutes before returning with a tiny, angrier-looking copy of himself, and then everyone sort of gets their crap together and sits down and there’s just… food.

It’s really good food, of course, but that part was totally expected. The Bruce clone (Damian, she remembers hearing) and Cass seem to be entering into a competition for who can say the least, but the rest of the family makes up for the one’s grumpiness and the other’s reticence. It feels… surprisingly natural. It’s really nice. It’s nice in a way that makes her a tiny bit nervous when she thinks about it for more than a couple of seconds, but it’s still nice.

“Jason,” Bruce says with an infinite patience, “please don’t joke about your violent murder at the dinner table.”

“If you can’t joke about your own death,” Jason shoots back with a worrying smile, “what  _ can _ you joke about?”

Okay. Mostly nice. (Dick nudges her knee with his under the table and her heartbeat slows down a little bit. Harley still takes an almost suffocatingly large bite of dinner roll to have something distinct to occupy her until the subject changes, though.)

* * *

“I think I’m dying,” she informs the ceiling from the couch she’s currently taken over. Dick is doing his level best to sit in it too, but he mostly just ended up having his legs used as a footrest. It’s his own fault, Harley decides.

“Hey,” Jason’s voice emanates from across the living room (or… one of them; she’s not totally sure how big the Manor is, exactly). “That’s my job.”

Harley uses all of the energy left in her body to raise her head from the arm of the couch. “Too soon,” she accuses, and drops back down.

Jason barks out a laugh. “I like her, Dick,” he says.

“Me too,” Dick murmurs, half-asleep.

“You’d better,” Harley says.


End file.
